


Fairy Tales

by Vancityfire



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-10-12 05:17:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10482933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vancityfire/pseuds/Vancityfire
Summary: The Pandorica is just a fairy tale so the Doctor shouldn't be worried, but then again so was the Big Bad Wolf. Amy, Rory, River, Rose and the Eleventh Doctor. When everything is falling apart, rewriting time doesn't seem so difficult.





	1. Chapter 1

Rose Tyler was ordinary. She was stuck in her shitty life, working her dead-end job to earn enough for her no hope future, in the council flat that she would never leave.

Rose Tyler was painfully ordinary.

And then one day she wasn't.

"I fuckin' hate this." Rose repeated for at least the third time that Monday. She leant forward and smacked her forehead against her folded arms as she sat behind the till. The shop girl standing next to her smirked but didn't bother replying to Rose's favourite phrase.

It hadn't even been a quiet day, nor a busy day. Just the same as yesterday and the day before. Rose wondered if she had been living that film Groundhog Day.

How depressing if she hadn't even noticed.

The shop's overhead lighting continued to be the brightest part of her day, even after she met her boyfriend, Mickey, for her lunch break. Chips made the day a bit better, but chips made any type of day better and she couldn't help but wish that today had been a brilliant one rather than mind numbing.

Mickey was great, Mickey was probably it for her. She couldn't quite accept that yet, but the fear of its inevitability still lurked in the back of her head.

Her mind buzzed lazily with these thoughts as she watched the minutes tick by until the end of her shift. Her shift finished and she barely dragged up enough energy to care. She ached for a cigarette as she waited across the street for her bus, but she was quitting for the New Year, and this time it was going to last. That little nagging voice reminded her that it was pointless, nothing was going to change, cigarette or not.

So she headed to the local newsagents, angry at herself for breaking her New Year's resolution before the end of January. She spared a glance to the heavens when the halo of the lamppost ahead flickered then died abruptly. Rose smiled softly at the reminder of the jet black night sky. She used to believe in stars, her Mum always said that her dreaming was what got her kicked out of school so young. Rose thought that smoking weed behind the gym building was a bit more likely, but the reputation as the Dreamer Girl had always persisted. Guess she just liked fairy tales, not now though, now she liked beer at the pub with Mickey, dramatic TV soap operas and going to Shareen's on Friday nights for pizza and cheap booze. She had no more time for Beauty and the Beast or Little Red and the Bad Wolf.

There was a Roman in the newsagents. Rose blinked and then blinked again, there was a Roman soldier standing by the mints stand at the counter. He'd clearly been staring at the door and now that she'd walked in, his eyes snapped up to hers.

"You must be Rose Tyler." The Roman said awkwardly, standing more upright.

"Who the fuck's asking?"

There was a lengthy pause while the awkward Roman glanced desperately around the shop clearly unsure what to say.

Then a man with a fez appeared and Rose screamed.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hello!"

The Doctor beamed enthusiastically as he appeared in the final and wildest part of his plan. He lowered his raised arms as he took in the screaming girl in front of him.

"Ah yes, I suppose this is a bit, well mad isn't it." The Doctor said, rubbing the back of his neck hesitantly.

Rose's feet were lead as she processed her initial panic. This definitely could not be happening, but it was. Either she was crazy or the world was- not really much she could do with that.

"Who are you? She questioned, or rather accused, shifting defensively like an enclosed wild animal. "How did you do that?"

"Rose, Rose Tyler." The man with the fez smiled again, more softly this time. "You know the answers to both those questions, you just don't know that you know." He gave a short laugh but his eyes conveyed a far more sombre mood.

He began to ramble, walking in small circles as his spoke about shit that didn't make any sense. None of this made any sense. The Roman's presence was brought to the forefront of her attention when he coughed pointedly.

"Yes, sorry don't suppose that would make much sense." He muttered, waving his hand at the Roman as if his interruption had been a nuisance fly. "I just need to ask you one more question and this will all start to become much clearer." He paused again before adding "Hopefully."

"Ask me what?" Her heart that had been pounding since the mad man's arrival started to slow. He was leaning more to the eccentric than psychotic end of the crazy scale. Still she remained wary, these might be the most memorable moments of her life, but she didn't want them to be her last. He took a step towards her, and she found herself leaning in despite all common sense.

"What is your star sign?" She blinked once slowly not quite believing the build-up had been for that.

"Taurus. Why?"

"Because there aren't any stars!" He whooped, jumping with surprising enthusiasm at her short, clearly correct answer. "Look at the sky Rose Tyler and tell me how you can possibly have a star sign."

"I dunno," She shook her head and repeated "I dunno, that doesn't make any sense. There aren't stars, it must be from a fairy tale or somethin'."

The man with the fez laughed in delight and she felt annoyance bubble up.

"Look, who the hell are you? Seriously, this is fucked up, you won't even tell me your name and how do you know mine? And why are you wearing a fucking fez?We're not in Turkey."

"You still believe deep down that there should be stars in that sky." The Doctor rushed his explanation, knowing how thin the line was between pissing her off entirely and getting her to understand.

"It's me you've been missing Rose. It's us and our adventures together. You're not meant to be stuck on this planet day after day." He glanced back to the chewing gum stand behind him. "No offence Rory, the last 2000 years were really some of the best, well worth hanging around for."

"You think my life is so boring because what? I've been needing a man? Some lunatic bloke, who hangs around with men wearing fancy dress in newsagents?"

The Doctor felt panic rise up as she started to back towards the shop door. Screw it.

"No Rose, I think you need a Doctor. I think you've needed one for a long time."

Rose felt a clawing at her heart. This was impossible, everything was impossible. It was as if his words were a key and she was an intricately locked door. Slowly everything started to unravel, this life wasn't hers. It wasn't meant to be like this, the details were fuzzy but the feelings smacked her in the chest. Freedom, danger, excitement and so much love. Then the heartbreak and sheer loneliness that made her gasp for air.

The angry girl in front of the Doctor, seemed to collapse inwards on herself. He stood, attempting to be patient, feeling like a hovering insect, too restless to stay still. Her eyes met his and he took a hesitant step forward. Then another and another.

When they embraced it was like fire. She knew this man that she had never met. Knew him so absolutely that it ran through her veins. He was the perfectly impossible, and with him she was everything she never thought she could be.

The night moved on, as it always was going to. The Roman, Rory, Rose corrected herself, had remained a silent observer for at least an hour, when he left abruptly, awkwardly referencing some sort of shift change at the National Museum.

The Doctor, for once in his life, seemed to be in no rush, sitting with her on the grimy floor as time continued to wear on. They revelled in each other's company, flitting from silences full to bursting point and strangely shaped conversations about where their lives had taken them.

The Doctor spoke of the mad adventures of Amelia Pond and her fiancé. She felt a pang as he mentioned the Daleks in the Blitz, both a monster and a place she had irrationally hoped were sacred to her and her Doctor. But this new face was one that she sensed found loneliness intolerable, and so she could not deny him more of the friends and adventures she knew he loved.

She told the story of the Bad Wolf vandal in this world, who'd scribbled the words on their door every night for a month. She spoke of her Mum's paranoia that they were being 'marked' and subsequent battle with the "useless twats who call themselves the police". Their laughter had been deadened by the memories that her Mum wasn't meant to be here, and in fact neither was she.

When the morning came, the Doctor stood, taking her hand and helping her to her feet. With an eerie calm that unsettled her stomach like a foregone goodbye, they walked out into the street.

The Doctor turned to face her, and fighting inevitable tears, she reached out to touch his shoulder reminding herself that he was here. Even if this was goodbye, at least he was here this time.

"This might be the last time I ever see you." The Doctor murmured the words that he could not put off forever. "If it is then I want you to know that you have been everything for me. I used to think I loved you. The old me did, I mean, he knew it like he knew Gallifrey had two suns. But it isn't just love if it lasts three of my lifetimes, and two of yours. I think it's more now. I've been beyond my understanding of the universe many times, but you are the first time I've gone beyond my comprehension of love." He paused for a long moment, the tears streaming down her face echoed the ones filling his own eyes.

"In a few moments I'm going to go back to the moment I really shouldn't have left. I'm going to fix the cracks in the universe and I'm going to be stuck on the other side." He swallowed the lump in his throat at the painful irony, and continued. "And I think, well I hope that maybe it won't be forever, because I told a little girl a bedtime story about the mad man in the blue box." He drew himself up a little as he tried to rally hope for her desolate expression.

"But this also might not be the last time I see you Rose Tyler; because I've seen you laugh in the face of impossible odds. Literally." He added thinking of their too frequent encounters with Daleks. "Rose, I need you to stand here and look at the sun, I need you to really look at it, for as long as you can and try to remember."

"Remember you?" Her voice was thick with emotion, incredulous at the idea of ever forgetting him again.

"Yes, try to remember me, and all the times that impossible odds haven't meant a thing."

He kissed her forehead one last time, and taking a step back, carefully placed the fez lightly on her head. With a final smile, the man she loved was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

This was the best day of Rory's life. His palms had been sweaty since midday and his Great-Aunt Vera had kissed him on the lips, twice. He couldn't even care. He had fallen in love with Amy in the way that should always end with a broken heart. He'd trailed behind her in the playground, he'd fretted over which t-shirt to wear to her birthday parties (the answer was always the navy blue one) and committed the most humiliating and stupid dares at her request. He'd been her shoulder to cry on, her best friend, and then one day, finally, she'd noticed him.

Now this was their forever. That uniquely Amy brand of happiness had bubbled away all day, calming those lingering nerves that he wasn't going to be enough for her. He relished the feeling of sitting next to his wife, hardly even mortified by his best man's anecdotes and thoroughly reassured by the distance now put between him and Great-Aunt Vera.

Then Amy had started to cry, and he'd felt the dread surfacing again. His heart dropped out his chest when she'd stood up and demanded the return of her imaginary friend. _He was never going to be enough_ , the words played hauntingly in his mind.

Then, the big blue box appeared and he wondered how he could ever have forgotten.

As soon as she remembered she couldn't understand how she'd ever forgotten, he was absolute and tangible, just missing. In the elongated silence following her outburst she still didn't waver. And sure enough, it appeared.

Amy opened the familiar Tardis door with a rush, to reveal the Time Lord himself. His equally silly and dashing outfit suggested that his appearance was a one-sided surprise. Her eyes trailed from the top hat, to his boyish grin, to his…

She paused.

"Doctor."

His arms flew up welcomingly.

"The Ponds!"

She repeated herself. "Doctor."

"Yes!" His grin widened, delight marring his ability to detect the danger in her tone.

"Why do you have lipstick on your collar?"

"Ah." He paused, letting the almost word settle in the eavesdropping room. His outstretched hand found the back of his neck and he rubbed at it nervously. "Ah yes, well I heard about this incredible wedding and I must have forgotten to RSVP but, well, I've brought a plus one."

"River?" Now, Amelia's voice contained a knowing smirk.

Then, a distinctly London voice came from within the Tardis. "Who's River?"

The Doctor opted to hold his wide eyed stare as Amelia's face adjusted to the shock.

"Who's that?" He wondered if all Scottish people could infuse two small words with such attitude.

"Has she been in there the whole time?"

"I wish." He spoke without thinking, a cheeky grin taking prominence over his face before he could help himself. He felt a hand slip into his and felt the corresponding spark shoot up his arm. Her proximity was certainly delightful although slightly mitigated by her unwavering focus on Amelia.

"Hello, I'm Rose Tyler. I guess if the Doctor's your imaginary friend, then I'm his." He could feel her attempt at friendly nonchalance thwarted by the sparkling warmth in her voice. Also by her mussed hair, actually that may have been the clearer indicator.

As Rory came forward to stand by Amelia, the Doctor beamed instinctively at the happy couple. With her hand firmly grasped in his, he bounced out of the Tardis to begin the new best day of his life.

 

Well, third time hadn't been lucky for the Doctor's dancing ability. Rose was doubled over as this wonderful, bizarre man moved like the beat was only a suggestion. He flew from groups of children whose adoration was evident, to the bride who was echoing Rose in peals of laughter.

She made eye contact with Amy and felt a wave of nervousness flood her system. Amy's laughter died down and her expression flitted somewhere between wary and defensive, Rose held her gaze for a long moment hoping her genuineness would be clear. It had been so much easier meeting Donna. She supposed her last Doctor hadn't had the air of innocence that this top hat wearing, enthusiastic, terrible dancer did. No one had felt they needed to protect him, only help him. Maybe now it wasn't so simple. A voice in the back of her head added the bitter thought she wasn't acknowledging, that _of course_ it had been much easier for Donna, because he mentioned you back then.

She threw the surfacing thought away as the song changed to one much slower and Amy made her way over to her new husband. She actually liked the socially awkward Roman bloke. He was on his way to being her best friend on the merit of being one of very few who actually smiled when they made eye contact with her.

Her brooding thoughts and distant stare were broken when _his_ brand new face surfaced in her line of vision. He finally seemed able to sway somewhat to the rhythm as he led her into the middle of the dance-floor. She let out a shaky breath when his hands reached her hips and couldn't resist drawing him a little closer by her hands clasped behind his neck.

He bent down slightly and suddenly she could feel his breath, ragged, on her lips. She felt her own lips move upwards until they just brushed against his and then- the music stopped abruptly.

They turned with the other dancers to watch the muted argument between the bride and the DJ. The winner was clear when the DJ meekly changed the music to another slow beat classic. The Doctor's shoulder's straightened as 'Cry Me A River' filled the room and the ginger bride gave him a pointed look.

He took a clear step back before continuing their dance and she bit back the question she wasn't sure she wanted the answer to. River was a name that seemed intent on remaining both unexplained and unavoidable tonight. Her trust in the Doctor evidently had no effect on her rising insecurity and instinctive jealously over another woman in the Doctor's life.

She remembered vividly her Mum's prediction of this event back in the other world. Her mind faltered slightly as she recalled these memories that she'd never lived this time around but still retained. The Doctor had explained it so well earlier, but now she was less certain of the ins and outs.

He had been standing over the Tardis console when she'd arrived from that collapsing universe without stars, her appearance directly across from him going unnoticed for several seconds. Rose had panicked when words wouldn't escape her throat and she felt terrified that she had died back in that world.

Then he'd glanced up for a second and time had paused. They shared a look and then a hesitant smile before walking around the ship's centre to finally meet. His choice of a walking pace had reassured her, she was tired of the fleeting seconds that she had to sprint for. A walking Doctor meant they had all the time in the world. After a moment, they'd found themselves wandering through the rooms of the newly (to Rose anyway) refurbished Tardis.

He'd told her then of the idea that had been sparked by the destruction of reality. He'd started the story with a teasing 'Once Upon A Time' but she'd been drawn in by the tale of the Pandorica, and of Amy, Rory and some other friends- he'd mentioned Cleopatra vaguely. His gaze was murderously intense and particularly vulnerable when he'd explained the logic behind his plan, that if human Rose could have her part-human Doctor then why could he not have his part-alien Rose.

Her timeline had diverged continuously as the Pandorica had been opened, and she'd been in a state of flux when thrown into a reality without stars to visit or Doctor's to call. When she'd trained her eyes on the fading sun and allowed the song of the Tardis to fill her mind she felt acutely the two timeline's rip apart rather than converge, and so here she was.

Her Mum had not predicted that.


	4. Chapter 4

The Tardis was now saturated with tension.

  
Amy’s married life had begun two days ago, those two days had been spent travelling through time and space in a magic blue box along with her husband and best friend. She was living a thoroughly unique life and having the adventures she’d always wanted. She was probably one of the luckiest people alive. She was like a character in a fantastic story. She’d faced so much, learned so much and become so much.  
Rory tended to spraff this shit when he caught her attempting to transmit bad vibes at the Doctor and Rose with a well-aimed glare. Amy appreciated his effort to reason with her, appreciated it in the way of ignoring his remarks completely. She had a lot of feelings to express to her head-in-the-clouds best pal, and he was trying very hard not to be receptive.

  
And then there was Rose.

  
Objectively Amy knew these recent developments were not attributable to Rose. She’d heard enough of the story now to understand how little this woman had actually been involved in her own reappearance on the Tardis.  
Objectively, Amy’s horse wasn’t high enough to really blame someone for wanting this life or fighting to get it back.

Amy was not a naturally objective person.  
Rose’s passing comments about how _different_ he was now, were particularly irking. This was about more than his fixation with jammy dodgers or rejection of apples. She’d never even met this version of him, until his madcap rescue plan, a fact they both seemed to be ignoring completely.  
Their intensity was conflicting too, her Raggedy Man had never seemed to stop running, and now he appeared to be in orbit. He was like a puppy following Rose around. Amy didn’t even try to hold back a comment when he’d followed Rose into the kitchen just to watch her make a cup of tea. The term ‘Whipped’ may or may not have been used. He hadn’t taken it well, but before his annoyance could work its way into a retort, Rose had brushed her hand against his arm and he was calmed. Typical.

  
Maybe watching their relationship made her feel conflicted about the slight dysfunctional view she had of her own relationship with Rory. Maybe she felt bereaved as she watched her Doctor disappear a little bit every day. Maybe Amy felt replaced, cheated, insecure or in some way protective of the incredible woman that was River Song.

  
Maybe, maybe, maybe.

  
It was easier to send the disapproving glares.

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Happiness is overwhelming. It’s like drinking a fizzy drink as quick as you can. Sometimes you forget to breathe and your head’s swimming, but still, all the bubbles and caffeination are racing round your bloodstream.

  
The Doctor was excellent at creating atmospheres of happiness, just not so great at actually feeling them. Rose had caught him crying the other day. He’d followed her into the Tardis’s kitchen, eager to watch her make a cup of tea and feel that everything was right in the world again.

  
Her back had been turned to him and he’d sat at the rickety table in the corner. Her hair had been up in a messy bun. She’d taken out the right two mugs from behind where they kept the sugar. She’d hunted for his biscuit supply at the back of the cupboard that he’d once thought was the perfect hiding place. She’d even added an extra spoonful of sugar to his tea, how she knew he’d changed his preference was beyond him.  
Somewhere in between her subconsciously changing the chrome radio to the right station and pouring the milk, his eyes had begun to sting. She had turned around, holding the mugs in her hands and the biscuit packet’s wrapper between her teeth, still managing to beam a little bit of sunshine right at him. _Oh that smile_.

  
The tears were rolling down his cheeks when their eyes met. She had barely hesitated, placing down the tea and biscuits in front of him, moving the nearest chair so it touched his own and resting her head on his shoulder, interlocking their fingers and resting them on the table between their mugs. His voice was too gruff to explain about trying to process this veritable bliss, but she knew. The time ticked by quite unimportantly and the song kept humming and then so did the next one. He wasn’t spiritual in the traditional sense, but if he’d ever felt he’d deserved the pain in his life now he knew the condemnation had passed.

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There was a chance, a slightly greater chance than Rory wanted to admit, that everything was on the verge of imminent collapse. Although this tended to be a typical day in his _actually insane life_ , this time the foreseeable issue was not likely to resolve so miraculously.

  
In some ways Rory often felt he’d entered into a sci-fi version of Eastenders. The Doctor was the one who’d been a resident of Albert Square for a ridiculous amount of time with the plot lines mad enough they could only be for him. Amy was the beautiful, independent and most of all fiery individual whose resilience made her a fan favourite and who often sparked some new drama.  
And now, Rose was the one whose character arc seemed to transcend generations of other actors on the show. She was the one who survived every surely fatal plot conclusion and whose long-time developing romance with another protagonist made her the heart of the show. Initially, this had seemed to be Rory’s role, what with all his dying, now he wondered about being a narrator of sorts, no one ever kills the narrator right?

  
By watching as somewhat of an outsider, he felt he could see things more clearly than the others. He noticed the insecurity behind his wife’s glares and the fear that in part gravitated the Doctor and Rose to each other. He’d even observed the changing Tardis. The ship hummed differently now, the usually cool temperature was a degree or two warmer and the whole place just seemed a little brighter. Once or twice he’d even caught music playing when no one had requested it.  
So Rory was waiting, _as per usual_ , for the emotions to reach a tipping point and the blazing sun that was his wife to disrupt the precarious orbit the Doctor was now favouring. Sometimes he’d find himself looking across at the undercurrent of worry in Rose’s eyes and wonder if she was waiting for it too.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well, Amy definitely hated her. The prickling on the back of her neck happened whenever she felt that pair of eyes drift her way. It was remarkably unnerving.

  
The edges of her perfect few days back home had been tinged with this awareness. Was she now some relic dredged from the Doctor’s past to be rejected by the new people in his life? Might as well call her Sarah Jane.  
The Doctor had clearly taken decisive action to ignore this and she could not will herself to blame him when he appeared to be so unusually fragile. She empathised with his reaction to her presence more than she expected. It was the feeling of having everything and knowing how easily it could be lost.

  
She was a bit lost herself actually.

  
They were doing that thing again, the thing where they didn’t talk about stuff that might change things. She knew the pattern so well that she couldn’t help falling into it. They’d convince themselves that this little bubble they were in had strong enough walls and that they’d just keep floating up forever. Until it burst, _again_.

  
A strand of hair had fallen loose as she pretended to try and read a book, curled in an armchair in the room with the best television. She’d always called it ‘The Room with the Best TV’, but Amy and Rory called it ‘The Den’. _Whatever_. It had survived the Tardis’ makeover at least.  
She glanced up for the first time in the last hour and her eyes were drawn to the film the couple were engrossed in. Victoria Beckham’s face appeared in shot and she spoke without thinking.  
“Oh I love this film.”  
Her cheeks heated up at the long silence that followed her comment and immediately she wished she’d kept her mouth shut. Just as she began to consider escape routes, Rory spoke up.  
“This _is_ the worst movie ever made though.”  
His tone was typically dry but his hesitant smile gave Rose a new sense of confidence.  
“Yeah, but doesn’t it just Spice up your life?” She threw in a cheeky grin like he was a mate she’d known for years. It was too friendly, but God she was starting to get a bit lonely.  
She nearly dropped her jaw when Amy gave a resigned sigh and reluctantly engaged in the nearly conversation.

“I was always Ginger Spice, but only cause of the hair.” Rose was a little too excited at the civility when she eagerly responded.

“Yeah, tell me about it. I was always Baby Spice and I’m nothin’ like her.” Before the silence could begin again she’d continued.  
“So which one were you Rory?” Amy couldn’t help but reply before her husband had a chance.  
“Oh we used to play that game all the time when were kids, 'cause my best friend Mel was obsessed with it, she was always Scary Spice, same name and everything… But Rory was usually Posh 'cause he’s always been an awkward smiler; I mean did you see the wedding photos?"

“Oh, thanks.”  
The ice finally began to thaw as the movie ran on with little attention being paid to it and they drifted from the generic Spice Girls discussion into one about childhood and what pop culture they had shared. Before long there were easy smiles on everyone’s face and Rose began to feel again what it was like to have friends.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Doctor’s attempts to fix some excessive wear and tear on the handbrake were not being aided by the Tardis’ delighted and unexplained blaring of ‘Wannabe’. On the third rendition his foot had begun to tap along, although he stubbornly refused to admit enjoyment. He had missed his quiet moments with the Tardis and their shared enthusiasm for Rose’s return gave this time a new quality, like telling your best friend some big news.  
He was interrupted from his contented reverie by the sound of feet skittering down the stairs towards him, he turned in time to see her beaming smile and be engulfed in the warmest of hugs. Her giddiness was instantly infectious and he let out a cheer without thinking.  
Not quite leaving his embrace she faced him and told him, with a sort of leisurely excitement that was uniquely Rose, about the progress she’d made with his other companions. He looked at her face with a new kind of awe, watching the youth she was radiating.  
The Doctor spun her around then, her legs wrapped loosely around him as he moved and his face got lost in the tangles of her hair. The sheer relief she displayed at the slight improvement with Amy and Rory grated uneasily with his conscience. _That_ guilty bugger hummed noisily at his new awareness of reality. With eyes firmly closed he began to acknowledge his own selfishness and face, at last, the inevitable consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Managing to use the word spraff in this may actually be the highlight of my day.


	5. Chapter 5.

For someone who was always trying to get out, she always ended up back here. The Powell Estate, born and raised. Rose wasn’t technically in the Powell Estate right now, of course. The year was 2017 and her home was being demolished. The ghost of herself remained, hiding behind the Bad Wolf Construction logos that emblazoned the backs of the workmen destroying her tiny corner of the universe. The flats crumbled inwards on themselves and Rose continued to stare from her vantage point on the roof of the next tower block over. It was very lonely up here.

She kicked a stone that lay on the rooftop and observed its plummet towards the deserted street below with a strange feeling of bubbling emotion and blank detachment. She sat down, not knowing what else to do and let her legs hang over the edge of the tall building.

 _River Song_ drenched her mind. Rose hated her. Jealousy tore through everything, leaving jagged edges throughout her mind. The Doctor had even had the gall to say that she’d probably like her. Amy had called him a stupid twat for that. She’d appreciated the resolute support, but the audience hadn’t helped at all. While the Doctor had explained everything to her about his future wife, their past adventures and even some mild misdemeanours, Rose’s eyes had been drawn occasionally to Amy’s. She preferred the anger she’d once seen there to the new pity.

It’s remarkable what someone can tolerate, suffer, or endure for love. The Doctor explained in great detail what was the real and actual truth. He spoke at length about the complexities of the timelines and avoiding paradoxes. It was all jargon to Rose.

 _So what?_ Her mind screamed in response to his useless words. Her mind flashed back to a fateful beach where the intricacies of the universe had fucked her over once before. She watched as his mouth motored on, accompanied with meaningless gestures, but she couldn’t hear the words anymore. Her patience had snapped and evaporated so tangibly that she glanced upwards in case she could see it float away.

Always the last one to find out about the shitty things that fate had in store for her, always earning trust and having hers broken.

_Fuck them._

Her one coherent thought fuelled her demands to go home.

 

Time passed, and the grey London sky darkened somewhat. Rose pressed her palms together, focusing on the feeling of being there. Would she fade out of existence? The Doctor’s explanation had indicated the impossibility of River and her cohabiting the same universe. _No._ The voice declared forcefully. _Your existence isn’t tied to the Doctor and neither is hers._

 

When the sun had set, and the lights of the city rose up like hot embers. Rose stood up and decided.

“I’m more than this.”

She spoke quietly, feeling determined but also idiotic. Glancing around and feeling sure of her isolation, she urged herself to speak again. Louder.

“I’m fucking more than this.”

“So am I.”

The voice came from behind her and Rose’s shoulders tensed on instinct. Without taking a breath or even allowing herself to _feel_ , she turned around to face the woman who had claim on his other heart. She felt herself shred like a paper kite caught in a tornado.

“I believe we are in love with the same man.”

River’s voice was deeper than she'd expected, it shocked Rose to think of her as a real person now. Her response was instinctual but it scraped along her throat.

“I think we’ve known different men.”

“Oh he’s never stopped loving you.”

Rose pressed her fingernails into her palms as she tried to think about this. This women’s words were meant to mean something to her, but all Rose could think about was River. She stood like she was someone brave who hadn’t quite realised yet, or maybe _had_ realised but no longer found that trait so interesting anymore. Her figure was confident, her shoulders seemed relaxed but braced and her hands were still and by her side. She was what Rose pictured when she heard the phrase ‘born survivor’.

The silence extended a split second longer than it should have, Rose’s mouth opened slightly, knowing it was the time for her to speak. No words came out though as her brain focused more on River. Why couldn’t she look away? River’s shoulder’s tensed a little more as the moment became increasingly awkward. That was enough for the penny to drop.

River was preparing to survive her. Now Rose knew where to look to understand River. She looked properly at the woman’s eyes and saw more truth. Her eyes were weary, a soldier who’d been forced into battle too many times. The fire inside of her was too tired.

Rose realised that she was the same. She was in a stand-off with herself.

  _This, this is what he does to people._

The warning that had never sunk in, finally did. Tears filled her eyes, and the reflection of herself became watery but the sentiment did not.

There would be no desperate fight for the Doctor and without that feeling Rose saw that she was not just bereft but she had no reason to stay. With a shrug that betrayed her emptiness she spoke one last time.

“He makes me feel so tired,”

Without hesitation, she headed down the fire escape. River’s eyes followed her in surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. I've been busy with many life pressures, including exams, work and watching Torchwood. This is short but it's something. Also Jodie Whittaker is an actor who is beyond excellent. I CAN'T WAIT.


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